Tempted (7 page)

Jackson tried his hardest not to stare at her from out of the corner of his eye, but it was hard. What was it about this woman that drew his eye? She was nothing like any of the women he’d ever been with; if he hadn’t known what she was, he probably would never have given her a second glance. Why then, was it so hard to stop tracing the angular planes of her face with his eyes? Why did he keep glancing at her lowered eyelids, waiting for her to raise those intriguing eyes of hers to meet his gaze?

He was glad when they finally arrived at P.S. 129 and the little park across the street. He led Sarah to the park bench he occupied every morning and sat down. Mason lowered himself onto his haunches beside him. Sarah glanced from him, to the school, and back to him in confusion.

“
Just sit down, will you?” he snapped, his eyes locked on the front doors of the school. He glanced down at his watch for a brief second before his eyes went right back where they had been. “We’ll only be a minute.”

Sarah watched from where she sat on the park bench as a gleaming black sedan rolled to a stop in front of the elementary school. They had been sitting there for five minutes, watching children filing in through the double doors. Jackson had been silent and still as a marble statue, his eyes fixated on the building across the street.

He perked up when the black sedan appeared and Sarah was pretty sure he was holding his breath. Sarah couldn’t help but gasp when she saw the woman that stepped out of the vehicle. She was absolutely gorgeous. Her dark skin gleamed in the sunlight, as did her jet black hair. It framed her face in a sleek bob that stopped just below her chin. A pair of large sunglasses covered her eyes, but Sarah knew that they were dark pools framed by equally dark lashes. A three piece suit concealed a body that belonged on the cover of magazines. Her three-inch heels clicked on the pavement as she circled around to the back of the car.

The woman swung the door open and held her hand out to the little boy inside.

Jackson’s son, she realized as soon as she got a glimpse of the boy’s face. He was the very image of his father, right down to the gray eyes. He jumped down from the car’s backseat before slinging a red and green backpack over his shoulders. He smiled up at the woman and waved goodbye. The woman leaned down to kiss the little boy’s cheek. He squirmed uncomfortably under her attention, like little boys do, before taking off toward the front steps. Jackson’s eyes remained on the little boy until he was out of sight.

They both watched as the attractive woman circled back to the driver’s side and disappeared back into the car.

Sarah could feel the tension radiating from Jackson. She could also feel his every emotion. Sadness, anger, and loneliness all reached out to her and Sarah felt as though she would break down in tears at any moment. She also felt something else, the darkness again, clawing at the edges of her subconscious. Her stomach turned.

As she stood and followed him away from the park, she thought back over his dreams. The beautiful woman he’d been choking in the midst of his twisted nightmare was the same that had dropped the little boy off at school. Jackson’s ex-wife.

“
His name is Jackson Jr.,” he said as they walked. “We call him Jack.”

“
He’s adorable,” Sarah said, remembering shining gray eyes and a smile missing several teeth. “He looks just like you.”

Jackson walked beside her in silence, his eyes lowered. Sarah was relieved to have a break from the stormy depths. When he’d been staring so intently at her before, she could not help the tiny frissons of awareness that ran through her. She remembered his fiery gaze and felt her cheeks growing hot.

“
And the woman?” she asked finally. “The boy’s mother?”

“
Rochelle,” he said, his expression hardening. “My ex-wife.”

Sarah sensed anger and sadness sweeping through him as her name fell from his lips. He glanced up at her and his scowl darkened.

“
I can tell by the way you’re looking at me that you know what happened.”

“
Yes.”

Jackson stopped walking abruptly and whipped around to face her. “So, what, you think I’m some kind of woman-beater? You think that’s why she left me?”

Sarah’s eyes widened in shock at his abrupt mood swing. She had known him for less than two days, but had a feeling she was going to have to adjust to his turbulent personality.

“
Of course not,” she answered calmly. “You would be surprised what an angel can learn from viewing only one memory or dream. It is easy to see that going off to war has changed you. Those changes were too much for her to handle, so she left. Am I right?”

Jackson didn’t respond, but his face did soften a bit. He glanced down at his watch. “You hungry?” he asked.

“
I can’t believe you’ve never had a hot dog.”

Sarah wrinkled her nose at the long, foil wrapped package as she examined its contents. Jackson couldn’t help but laugh at the expression on her face.

“
I do not need to eat to survive,” she said with a shrug. “If an angel eats, it’s merely for the enjoyment of food.”

“
Let me guess,” Jackson said as he took a big bite of his hot dog, “you’re not the pleasure-seeking type of angel.”

“
I am here for a purpose,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the mustard, onion, and sauerkraut smothered hot dog to glare at him. “Hot dogs are not exactly a requirement.”

“
Just taste it,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “You can unbend for five minutes and enjoy a hot dog.”

With a sigh, Sarah peeled back the foil and lifted the hot dog to her lips. After taking a bite and chewing for several seconds, she closed her eyes and an expression that could only be bliss crossed her features.

Jackson nodded in agreement before taking another bite of his own hot dog. “I know, right?”

She practically inhaled what was left of the hot dog. Jackson wondered if she planned on licking the foil. For some reason his stomach flip-flopped at the thought. Thankfully, she merely balled the foil up and tossed it into a nearby trashcan. Jackson followed suit and they continued on their walk with Mason trotting along beside them.

“
It was interesting,” she said as they walked. “I suppose I could eat another one.”

Jackson snorted. “Are you always this uptight?”

“
I don’t know what you mean.”

“
Oh come on! You have got to be the most uptight person I’ve ever come across. Are all angels like this?”

“
Angels have personalities just like humans,” she said, hooking her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans. “They are developed through our experiences.”

“
I don’t understand.”

“
Well,” she said slowly, obviously trying to figure out how to explain it so that he could understand, “humans are born with an inherent need for emotional stimuli. You crave it. Babies like to be held, comforted, and talked to. Your emotional needs are programmed in. Angels don’t have emotional needs, nor do we experience any feeling that we have never encountered. For an angel like me, who has not dealt with many humans, things like vanity and pleasure-seeking are not high on my list of priorities.”

“
Not one for vanity, huh? So is that why you choose to look the way you do? I mean, I’m assuming angels are in control of their human appearance.”

“
There is nothing wrong with the way I look,” she said, her voice raising an octave. If Jackson didn’t know better, he could have sworn he heard impatience edging her voice. It was the first time he’d heard her speak higher than a near-whisper. “Besides, I have more important things to worry about.”

“
Look, I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said earnestly. “It’s just that I’ve seen the way you really look.”

He stopped on the sidewalk and gripped her arm gently. She turned and stared up at him.

“
It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he continued. “I just don’t understand why you would trap all of that behind a plain face and a curtain of mousy hair.”

Her hand came up to stroke a lock of the waist-length hair. Her eyes lowered, and he could tell he had hurt her feelings...the few feelings she had anyway.

“
Damn it,” he said, running one hand over his hair with a sigh. “Listen, I’m not very good at this,” he said. “Being in Iraq destroyed all of my social skills and now I just pretty much say what’s on my mind without thinking. I didn’t mean to upset you. Besides, I thought you weren’t vain.”

That last statement had the corners of her mouth turning up and Jackson felt relief flood him. They continued on down the sidewalk, nearing his apartment.

“
Enough about me,” she said as they walked. “We’re supposed to be talking about you.”

Jackson nodded slowly, the sick feeling of nervousness working its way through his gut. He liked it better when they were talking about her.

“
Why are you stalking your ex-wife?”

“
I am not stalking her,” he said through clenched teeth. “I’m stalking my son.”

They came to a stop in front of his apartment and she turned to face him silently. When it became clear that she was waiting for an explanation, Jackson continued grudgingly.

“
Rochelle left me,” he said, his voice wavering with anger as old feelings washed over him. The pain was similar to a bandage being ripped away from a festering wound. “She quit on me when I needed her and she has made it clear she wants nothing more to do with me. I can’t really say that I blame her, either. I’m a goddamn mess! I’m so messed up that I can’t even be a decent father to my son!”

Jackson knew he was yelling, that he was unloading his anger and his hurt on Sarah, but he couldn’t stop himself. It just felt so good to finally get it out; it didn’t matter that he barely knew Sarah. Something about her just made him open up…maybe it had something to do with her divine nature.

“
I am no good for anybody,” he said, his voice lowering and his shoulders slumping. “I can barely get out of bed in the morning. I can’t sleep without at least half a bottle of liquor in me, and when I do sleep I see the faces of people that died because of my bad decisions. I can’t be a good husband or a good father. I can’t date, and I can’t have a love life, because I’m so damn broken that anyone who comes near me is in danger of sinking like they’re standing on quicksand. No one deserves to be pulled down into my muck, and that’s why I closet myself away in my apartment, and that’s why I would seriously consider running if I were you. Put as much distance between me and you as possible, and don’t look back.”

“
You have a really low opinion of yourself.”

He folded his arms across his chest defensively. “If you knew how many lives I destroyed, you would too.”

Sarah stared at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers running through the heavy, dull curtain that was her hair. She didn’t usually spend a lot of time looking in mirrors; when on earth she had better things to do and more important things to worry about.

But, as much as she hated to admit it, Jackson’s opinion of her appearance had hurt. She knew without having to be told that she was beautiful in her angelic form. All angels were majestic and dazzling; a more beautiful sight did not exist on earth. And while no one’s opinion on her appearance had ever mattered before, for some reason, Jackson’s did.

As she gazed at herself in the mirror, beneath the stark white bathroom lights, she wondered what a few adjustments could do for her appearance.

“
Shorter,” she whispered as she stared at her reflection. Inches of her hair disappeared into thin air, until she was left with wavy, chin-length locks that made her look as if she had just gotten out of bed. Her hand came up to the line of jaw and she leaned toward the mirror. She hadn’t realized how her heavy hair had cloaked the sloping planes of her face. The column of her throat was long and graceful, and the slope of her shoulders was curved and feminine.

“
Highlights,” she murmured as she twirled one short, wavy lock around her index finger. “Honey blonde, I think.”

Her eyes widened as several strands of her hair lightened to the desired shade. Now her eyes were even more noticeable, the green flecks practically glowing against their mahogany backdrop.

One hand came to rest on her cheek and she fought a tiny smile at the corners of her mouth. She wasn’t a beauty queen, but it was a vast improvement.

“
That is a remarkable skill.”

Sarah gasped and turned toward the doorway, where Jackson stood leaning against the frame. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“
You left the door open,” he said with a shrug. “You know, if this angel thing doesn’t work out you could make a killing as a hair stylist. I know ladies that would kill for a thirty second haircut and color.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and turned back to her reflection. “I’ve had the same look for several hundred years,” she said. For some reason she felt the need to explain.

“
Of course,” said Jackson with another shrug. “My opinion of your appearance had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“
Absolutely not,” she said, looking him in the eye and squaring her shoulders with a confidence she did not feel. “Why would it?”